Bittersweet
by Jenny70529
Summary: Sara's past collides with her present. Saracentric.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Notes: Hello! This story comes to me as a request from a reader, so she is to credit for this idea. I hope you enjoy it!_

_I haven't had a chance to get this betaed, so any mistakes are mine. _

_Readers of my other stories...I'm hoping to have an update soon, although I'm having a bit of trouble with writer's block. _

_I'm expecting two more parts to this fic, and considering I have it mapped out, it won't take nearly as long as my others to update. _

_As always, let me know what you think. _

_Jenny_

**Bittersweet: **

**Chapter One:**

Sara awoke with a start, her pulse racing as she struggled to catch a breath. Shakily bringing her hand to her forehead, she tried to calm herself down. It had been weeks since she dreamt about that night, since she let the fear overcome her.

Knowing it would be pointless to try and go back to sleep, she tossed the covers off of her legs, setting her trembling feet on the floor as she reached for the pull-cord for her bedside lamp. It had been nearly four years since that horrible night, since she fled the life she had come to love, since she had shed the role of Sara Sidle: Wife and Mother, and became Sara Sidle: Bitter and Alone.

Wiping a few stray tears from her face, she made her way to the closet, pulling out a battered cardboard box. Sitting on the floor, she emptied the few items she had managed to take from her San Francisco house. She had gone through this routine many times before, when the dreams were bad enough to fog even her conscious mind, and tonight was no different from the others.

She reached for the faded pink baby book, her finger lightly tracing the glittery silver letters of the cover. _Molly Ann Sawyer._ Her baby girl. The one piece of her past she longed to have in her arms. The only name that had the power to break her.

She could recite the records in this book with more accuracy than she could any forensics journal or any case report. This book held the secrets of who she was, and who she used to be. It made her the stressed workaholic that she was today, a striking opposite of who she was in California. Those three little words are what made Sara Sidle, and just a few months later, what broke Sara Sidle.

Flipping open the hard cover, she was rewarded with the most beautiful blue eyed baby she had ever seen. _Her_ beautiful blue eyed baby. The child that no longer existed. The reason that each day, another little piece of Sara Sidle slowly died.

_Alex and Sara Sawyer welcomed Molly Ann Sawyer on June 24th. Molly weighed 6 pounds and 11 ounces, and was 19 inches long. This is the Sawyer's first child. Alex has been on the San Francisco Police Force for 3 years, and Sara has been working in the Criminalistics Bureau for 2. _The newspaper clipping felt worn and fragile to Sara's rough skin, and she gently placed it back in the book, picking up the next clipping as a tear slid down her cheek. _Missing: Molly Sawyer, age 3 months. Molly was last seen with her father Alexander Diego Sawyer (pictured above) on September 22, wearing a pink dress with a picture of a ballerina on the front. If you have any information on either of these individuals, please contact the San Francisco Police Department._

Sara sighed, shaking her head slightly as she wiped away the moisture from her cheeks. She was in love, she was happy, she had the perfect husband and child...and one day it all just vanished into thin air.

She let her hand rest on the shiny photo taped to the front page of the baby book. Molly was resting in Sara's weary arms, her eyes barely open, her arms nestled tightly in the blanket cocoon. She was less than half an hour old, and totally oblivious to the tears of joy glistening in her parents eyes. This had been the happiest day of Sara's life, she had no idea that it would all be over so soon.

Placing the book back in the box, she let her trembling hands rest on a small, white stuffed rabbit. She had Alex had bought many, many things when she was pregnant, but this rabbit was the first stuffed toy they had bought for Molly. Up until the day she disappeared, the rabbit could always be found within arms reach of the infant, who loved to hear the rattling sound it made when shook. Bringing the rabbit to her face, Sara could still smell a slight trace of baby powder in it's soft fur.

Her memories were interrupted by the phone, and sniffling loudly, Sara took a few deep breaths before answering the phone with a slightly shaky voice, "Sidle."

"_Were you sleeping?"_

"No," Sara sighed, "What do you need?"

"_419 on Woodvale, I need you to meet me there."_ Grissom's voice rang over the phone, _"Can you handle it? I know you just came off of a double--"_

"I'll be there." Sara replied, hoping her voice wouldn't betray how weary and exhausted she actually was. Stifling a yawn, she hurriedly placed the box back into her closet, grabbing a pair of jeans and a black blouse. The sooner she was working, the sooner she'd be able to place her own demons on the back-burner and get her attention focused elsewhere.

--

Sara arrived at the crime scene 15 minutes later, surprised to see she beat Grissom. Waving to Brass, she weaved through the onlookers and media to make her way towards the Detective.

"What do we have?"

"White male, unidentified, was shot multiple times. Neighbors heard 10-15 shots, and saw a figured dressed in black exiting through the living room. There are no signs of forced entry, and none of the big ticket items were stolen. The victim had just moved into the neighborhood, no one had spoken to him or knew anything about him. We're running the address to get a name. Grissom and Warrick are on their way. It's the fourth murder in this neighborhood over the last month."

"I remember." Sara said quietly, shifting her kit to her left hand, "House clear?"

"Of course."

Sara smiled grimly at the detective, taking the lead into the house, Brass close behind her. She tried not to flinch as the smell of gunpowder and blood assaulted her nostrils upon the threshold of the house. Placing her kit on the floor, she picked up her camera, snapping a few shots from the doorway.

"Living room is to the right, bedrooms are to the left, kitchen is straight ahead." Brass informed her as she began to snap pictures once more. "My guys were the first to arrive, we beat the paramedics here. Officer Morgan advised the paramedics to use the kitchen entry to check for vitals on the vic, we're waiting on the coroner to pronounce. Morgan assumed that since the front door was open, there could be some sort of evidence in the foyer...he's been watching those crime shows on TV or something. He claims he came through the entrance here and hugged the walls, moving right until he got to the entrance of the living room."

"You've got your responding officers trained pretty well." Sara commented with a light smile as she crept along the wall, squatting as she shone her flashlight on the carpet, "I've got a footprint."

Brass shrugged, "I used to be one of you guys, remember? Need something from your kit?"

"I don't know if I could get an impression without destroying the shoeprint." Sara groaned, tilting her head to the side, "Hand me a marker, I'll come back for it."

"Going to let Grissom or Warrick collect it, I presume?" Brass teased as Sara snapped a few pictures, "That way if it's destroyed in the process it doesn't fall back on you?"

Sara raised an eyebrow, "Cynical today, aren't we?" She lowered her camera, shining her light across the carpet once more, "Warrick's great with shoeprints, I wouldn't want to deny him a chance to shine...and it never hurts to cover your ass."

"That's the truth." Brass commented as they made their way into the living room.

Sara stood in the doorway, taking another series of pictures before entering. She instinctively edged towards the right, knowing that even though the body was to the left of the entrance, she first had to do a walk-through of the room.

She had gone through 27 evidence markers when she heard her supervisor's voice behind her, "It's almost like you don't need our assistance."

Sara looked up from her camera, a smile on her face, "It's about time you two showed up."

"It's like a media circus out there." Warrick commented, "Not to mention every resident within a mile of here is trying to get a glimpse of what went down."

Sara nodded, motioning towards the foyer, "I've got a shoe impression in the carpet, left it for you, Warrick."

"Oh, so there is something you haven't done yet?" Warrick joked, "I knew you were an overachiever, Sara, but you've nearly got this entire scene processed."

"Hardly." Sara snorted, "I haven't even made it to the body yet, still trying to take photos."

Grissom glanced towards the body, then towards Sara and Warrick, speaking quietly, "I'm going to speak with Brass and talk with the neighbors. Warrick, walk the perimeter and come in through the kitchen entrance...that's where the medics and backup officers entered, we'll need to exclude them. Sara, continue with your walk-through, but call me when you get to the body and we'll do that together."

Sara nodded, laying a yellow marker next to a piece of torn fabric. With a heavy sigh, she squatted beside it, taking pictures from a variety of angles before rising. Her body ached with fatigue as she slowly made her way towards their victim, her back protesting with every move. When she was through with this case, she'd definitely need to take a few personal days to recover from the long hours she had been putting in recently. She normally worked more hours than any of her coworkers, but for the last two weeks she had severely surpassed her normal quota of hours.

It took her nearly 20 minutes to catalogue her way to the body, and another 15 to work her first draft of the crime scene. Her eyes tired and her head swimming with numbers, she pulled out her walkie talkie to let Grissom know she was ready to process the body.

Stifling a yawn, she stretched towards the ceiling, taking a deep breath. The memories of her daughter still lingered fresh in her mind, giving her head the right amount of ammunition it needed to start painfully throbbing. She reached into her kit, fumbling to open the bottle of aspirin with her tired hands. She slid the bottle back into her kit, swallowing the pills dry, as Grissom walked into the room.

"You ready?"

"Of course." Sara replied, sliding on her latex gloves as she motioned towards the body, "Where's David?"

"He's getting the van set up, he'll be here in just a few seconds. Did you get that blood spatter on the wall?" Grissom motioned towards the wall behind Sara, "Whoever shot our vic really wanted him dead."

Sara glanced over her shoulder to the bullet holes and blood spatter coating the wall, a slight grimace on her face, "I wanted to wait until the body was moved, so I could have a bit more room to work. In the wall alone, I could 13 shots."

"Accurate with the witness statements." Grissom commented as he used his tweezers to pull a fiber off of their victim's shirt, "Pink? It doesn't belong to our vic, maybe we're looking for a woman."

"Definitely a crime of passion." Sara commented, holding the paper bindle open for Grissom to deposit his findings, "Otherwise one shot would have been enough."

Sara stood over the body, taking a few photographs of the head before moving down towards the ankles. The bullets had made a visual identification nearly impossible, even if they did manage to find his wallet on the scene. It would be left up to fingerprints and DNA to make a match on this case.

A soft whimper made Sara stop photographing and turn to Grissom, "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Grissom asked nervously, his mind flashing to his latest meeting with his ENT, "I didn't hear anything."

Sara paused, straining to listen for any more noises, then motioned triumphantly towards the entertainment center as she heard another quiet whimper, "You didn't hear that?"

Sara started to move towards the noise when Grissom grabbed her arm, "Let me get an officer."

"It's not the suspect, it's something else." Sara insisted, moving towards the entertainment center once more. She opened the bottom cabinet, her heart racing with anticipation. Her heart froze the moment she came eye to eye with a young girl, wearing blood-soaked pink pajamas.

"Hi sweetie, my name's Sara." Sara spoke softly, moving so the child couldn't see the bloody mess in the opposite corner, "What's your name?"

The child stared blankly at her, wrapping her arms tightly around herself as she tried to shrink back into the cabinet. After a few moments, she spoke in a quiet, tearful voice, "My Daddy's hurt."

"I work with the police." Sara offered gently, "We're going to find out who hurt your Daddy. Do you like cookies?"

The child nodded, and Sara held out her hand, "Why don't you come with me outside, and I'll get you some cookies to eat. I think I have some chocolate chip cookies in my car."

The girl's eyes brightened slightly, and she accepted Sara's hand. Sara took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. The quick stop for coffee and a snack on the way over had seemed like a bad idea at the time, but now she was relieved to have something to coax the child out with. Sara stood, still trying to block the child from the horrific scene, although by the blood on her clothing, it was obvious she had seen enough.

"Are you hurt?" Sara asked, inspecting the child for any cuts or wounds, "Do you know what happened?"

"The mean guy hurt my Daddy." the girl whispered, tears pooling in her eyes, "He's going to come back."

Sara lifted the child into her arms, the girl's wavering, frightened tone causing Sara to forget about evidence preservation. She embraced the girl tightly, whispering softly, "We'll find out who hurt your Daddy, no one's going to hurt you. I promise."

Grissom looked up from the body, giving Sara a disapproving glare as she inched towards the doorway, the young girl's head on her shoulder. Sara shot him an equally dirty look as she gently stroke the child's back. She had made it halfway to the doorway when Brass walked in, a printout in his hand, "We've got an ID on the victim." Brass looked from Grissom to Sara, double-taking slightly as he noticed the child in her arms. Noticing the tension building between the two CSI's in the room, he hurriedly added, "The house was registered to an Alexander Sawyer, I have a copy of his license, but it won't do us much good."

Both Brass and Grissom watched Sara's face rapidly pale, but Brass was the quickest as he rushed to her side, steadying her while trying to pry the child from her grasp, in fear she'd drop her. Sara struggled against Brass, pulling the child away from her chest as she asked urgently, "What is your name?"

The girl was silent, tears filling her eyes as she looked between Sara and Brass, suddenly terrified. Sara asked louder, resisting the urge to scream as the room remained silent, "What is your name!"

"M...Molly." the child replied in a shaky voice, tears falling onto her pale cheeks.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Notes: I appreciate everyone who reviewed the last chapter...to those of you I couldn't reply to, sorry! I really do appreciate your comments though. Please continue to let me know what you think. _

_This story's taking me a lot longer to write than I anticipated, so I'm thinking we'll be closer to 5 or 6 chapters instead of the three I originally planned. Enjoy!_

_Jenny_

**Chapter Two:**

"What's going on?"

Sara looked up into Grissom's expectant eyes, blinking rapidly as she tried to comprehend the question he had just asked. Her body was numb from head to toe, except for the twinge of butterflies in her stomach. After a few minutes of trying to formulate a coherent answer, she decided to just keep her mouth shut. How could she explain what was going on when she barely had a clue?

Grissom reached for the metal chair, the sound of metal grating against tile echoing loudly through the silent interrogation room as he pulled it towards him. Sara looked up towards him once more, her hands trembling slightly. She wanted to scream, to cry, but she couldn't let him see her falling apart. She was Sara Sidle, she never fell apart.

"How do you know Alexander and Molly Sawyer?"

Sara let her gaze drop back to the table, shaking her head with a bitter laugh, "I thought I knew Alex, but boy was I mistaken."

"You need to tell me everything you know." Grissom stated calmly, "If you're tied to this case, we need to know about it."

"I haven't seen either of them in four years, since the night before I came to Vegas." Sara whispered softly, "I...I convinced myself they were dead. Anything to keep from facing the truth..."

Sara drummed her fingers on the table lightly, glancing up into her supervisor's eyes, "Am I a suspect?"

"Not right now...this isn't an interrogation, Sara, we just need to know everything that you know about Alexander Sawyer." Grissom replied patiently, "You're obviously upset, but I need you to cooperate with me. If you don't, you'll start looking guilty."

Sara shook her head, "As much as I am thrilled to see that he got what he deserved, I'd never actually kill the bastard."

"Tell me everything you know."

"Everything?" Sara asked with a hollow laugh, "Okay, Alex was born in Eureka, California, to Mary and Hayden Sawyer on June 11th, 1967. He joined the military when he was 18 years old, served some time in Iraq in the early 1990s. He came home and made the decision to go back to college and start a new life. He graduated from UCLA with a degree in General Studies, and ended up on the San Francisco police force."

Sara's voice wavered a bit as she struggled to keep back tears, "I met him for the first time when I was working in the coroner's office, he and some of his macho-tough-cop buddies were coming in to check the status of some high profile murder. I was a lowly tech at the time, barely trusted to do anything besides cleaning and sterilization on a high profile case. They came in laughing and joking about one of their buddies who was caught cheating on his wife or something, total macho guy talk. They were such pigs. The deputy coroner retrieved the body to show his findings, and the stench of a decomp was enough to shut the whole group of them up. After a few minutes, Alex couldn't take it anymore and had to excuse himself. I bumped into him in the hallway and gave him a hard time about being a macho man...he brushed me off, but a week later he called to ask me out on a date."

"So you dated Mr. Saywer?"

Sara laughed again, the bitter tone sounding foreign to her ears, "Not only did I date him, I married that...that..._him." _She wiped away a tear that had made it's way onto her cheek, "He helped me get a job in the San Francisco crime lab, and he moved from a detective to captain. We were still dating, and decided to get married. What a stupid decision that was..." Sara shook her head sadly, "I thought I knew him so well. I thought he loved me, but I was sorely mistaken on that one."

She glanced up at Grissom, then back down at the table, "There's got to be something wrong with me, something repelling guys away, you know?" She ran her fingers through her hair nervously as she continued, "We were married, and a year later, I was pregnant. We had a beautiful baby girl, and everyone couldn't resist commenting on how good we looked together, as a family. We worked opposite shifts so one of us could stay home with Molly at all times, and things were going so well...too well, I guess. I should have known he was planning something, he had become so generous and so sugary sweet, bringing home flowers and jewelry for no reason at all. I thought he was just really happy to have the baby in our lives, I thought we were happy."

She stifled a sob, furiously wiping away her tears as she spat out, "But it wasn't enough for him. I came home from work one day to find his closet empty, and her nursery ransacked. He had taken everything he would need -- diapers, clothes, a few toys, her blankets, bottles... She was three months old. I knew he had her, I just knew it." She slammed her hand down on the table, "I couldn't do anything, Grissom! I wanted to, but there was nothing I could do. Alex and I weren't separated or divorced, so when I filed a report, I couldn't very well say he kidnaped her...they told me it wasn't kidnaping if the child was in the care of her father. They made me wait 24 hours to file a missing persons report...and that was the last I saw of Alex or Molly."

"Molly is your daughter?" Grissom asked softly, the surprise evident in his voice, "The same little girl we found at the crime scene?"

Sara nodded, tears now flowing freely down her pale cheeks as she brought her hands to cover her face, sobbing earnestly. She struggled to calm herself down as the door slowly swung open, but found herself unable to stop the onslaught of tears that had now consumed her body. She was vaguely aware as Grissom stood, his chair once again scraping against the floor. She kept her hands pressed against her face, trying to stop herself from completely melting down...the last thing she wanted was rumors circulating about how she had suffered a nervous breakdown at the police station.

She heard the chair scrape once more, and she rubbed her eyes, opening them to find not only Grissom, but Brass and two others she didn't recognize.

"Sara, this is Joanne Plaisance from Social Services, and Special Agent Marcus Wright, FBI." Grissom spoke gently, "They have a few questions for you."

Sara nodded, placing her trembling hands in her lap, "What can I do for you?"

"Has Mr. Sawyer made any contact with you over the last two months?"

Sara's eyes traveled to the FBI agent, surprised by the anxious tone he had spoken with, "No...I haven't spoken to him in 4 years. I didn't even know he was in Las Vegas."

"Are you sure? Have you had any unexplained prank calls? Any correspondence through mail?"

"I'm positive...I didn't even know if he and Molly were alive, I have no idea what's happening." Sara responded, her voice raising slightly as she started to panic. Was she under suspicion from the FBI? What had Alex gotten in to? What was going on? "My hus...Alex disappeared from our home in California in the middle of the day _four_ years ago, and I haven't had any contact with him since. What's going on?"

"So you weren't aware of any aliases your husband may have been using? You were not aware of any of his locations? Any of his friends or business partners?"

"I've told you, I don't know anything!" Sara exclaimed, her temper flaring slightly, "Would someone _please_ tell me what is going on here!"

The FBI agent's tone was a little softer as he responded, "Mrs. Sawyer--"

"Sidle, I go by my maiden name."

"Miss Sidle, there's no easy way to tell you this...While working in San Francisco, your husband to uncover a massive drug smuggling ring, with heavy connections to various gangs in the area. The main target of this raid was put on trial, and he was found innocent due to a lapse in procedure related to the chain-of-custody with the evidence. While in court there were several threats made to your husband by this suspect, and our office thought it would be in Mr. Sawyer's best interest to go into protective custody. He refused to leave without the child, fearing her safety, so we arranged for both Alexander and Molly to disappear."

Sara's fist hit the desk with a resounding thud as she yelled, "_What?_"

"Miss Sidle, please calm down--"

"You arranged for my husband and my daughter to be taken from me without a word? I thought I'd never see my daughter again! I thought something had happened to them, I have spent four years waiting on some sort of word that they were alive, that they were healthy. You've kept my _child_ from me, she needed me! And you want me to calm down? Are you insane?" Sara asked as tears once again began to spill on to her cheeks, "It nearly killed me when Molly was taken, I spent years searching for her, and all along they were off somewhere safe and healthy and happy while I was alone and miserable!"

Agent Wright held his hand up, "It was essential to keep their location confidential. We had reason to believe someone from the crime lab had tampered with the evidence to ensure a mistrial, we couldn't jeopardize their safety, we had to keep you out of the loop."

"You had no right to take my child from me, to let me think she had been kidnaped by my husband..." Sara's voice trailed off as her head started to clear, "Wait a minute..."

She brought her gaze from Brass to Agent Wright, "Brass said his license read 'Alexander Sawyer'...that can't be right. You would have secured him a new identity, right? Living undercover with your given name is pointless."

"He and Molly _were_ living under an assumed identity, until 2 months ago. Both disappeared from their home in Abilene, Texas without a trace. During a routine check, our agents discovered they were missing, and after searching their home, we found your contact information. We were able to trace them through Texas, New Mexico, and Arizona over the last 6 weeks, and two weeks ago Mr. Sawyer signed paperwork on the house you found them in tonight."

Sara ran her fingers through her hair once more as she whispered, "So they abandoned the witness protection program?"

"We're assuming Mr. Sawyer felt the danger had passed and was trying to reconnect his family." Agent Wright concluded, "Three months ago the person your husband had apprehended started a new trial, the day before Mr. Sawyer and your child disappeared, he was found guilty on all charges."

Sara shook her head, "Alex was smart enough to know that organized crime has a long arm, he wouldn't just come out of hiding."

"With his background, we thought the same thing, but the fact remains that he abandoned the program and is now dead."

Sara swallowed back a wave of nausea as his words began to sink in. Her husband was dead. He was involved with the FBI. He had been living a secret life with their child. And more likely than not, he was killed by a gang member, which means it would be even harder to catch their murderer. She shut her eyes tightly, drawing in a shaky breath. Many, many times she had hoped he would get what was coming to him for taking away their precious daughter without a word, but she had never thought it would hurt this bad when it actually happened.

"Do you want some water or coffee or something?" Brass asked gently, watching Sara's face pale as her head bobbed slightly. He met her desperate gaze with concern as she nodded slightly, then motioned for the officer at the door to get her a cup of coffee.

Sara met Agent Wright's gaze after taking a sip of the warm black liquid, "Is Molly in danger?"

"We don't believe that your daughter is a target, but to err on the side of caution, we would like to keep both you and your daughter under surveillance." Agent Wright responded, staring into Sara's eyes to gauge her reaction.

Sara's gaze drifted from Agent Wright to the social worker, "Am I going to be able to keep Molly with me?"

"You're her mother, there's no reason why she shouldn't be allowed to go home with you." Joanne replied gently, "Both you and little Molly have been through a lot, though, and I'd recommend counseling for the both of you...and associate of mine is outside with Molly right now, and I have a few calls in to see if we can get you some supplies needed for Molly's care--everything from Mr. Sawyer's home is being logged in as evidence. I can't guarantee much more than a booster seat for your car and a few changes of clothes, but it will be enough to get you started."

Joanne handed Sara a business card, "This is my card, I have my home phone number listed as well. Please feel free to call me if you need anything. This will be a difficult transition for both you and your child."

"I'm going to have an officer to a sweep of your apartment before you and Molly enter, and I will keep him posted in 24-hour rotations. If there is a breech of security or a reason to believe that you and your daughter are in immediate danger, I will need you to agree you will vacate the house and stay in one of our secure locations." Agent Wright spoke firmly, "Is that something you can agree to?"

Sara nodded, her hand trembling as she laid Joanne's card on the table. Her head throbbed with the revelations of the last few hours. Her daughter was alive and safe, and she was coming home. Alex was dead. They were now under FBI protection. When did her life turn into a plot from the 'Lifetime Movie of the Week'?

"Would you like to see Molly now?" Joanne asked softly, with a quick glance to Brass and Wright for their approval.

Sara nodded, taking a deep breath and standing on shaky legs, "I've been waiting for this moment for four years." she whispered with a soft smile, her stomach fluttering with anticipation.

Joanne led Sara down the corridor to a separate questioning room, where Molly and another lady were coloring. Sara stopped in the doorway, taking in Molly's appearance. Now that she knew the truth, she could definitely see the resemblance to both herself and Alex. Molly had dark brown hair that fell in ringlets over her shoulders, and wide, warm brown eyes. Her skin tone was a bit darker than Sara's, a trait she had probably inherited from her tanned father, as well as a byproduct of living under the Texas sun.

An anxious smile tugged on her lips as she followed Joanne into the room, unsure of how to interact with her child after so long. It still felt unreal, like she was about to awake from the most peculiar dream. She wanted nothing more than to reach out and pull Molly in for a gigantic hug, to tell her everything was going to be okay and that she was going to take her home, but how do you comfort your child if you don't know the first thing about her? How could you tell her that her father was gone, and now she was going to have to live with a complete stranger?

Taking a deep breath, Sara tried to push her anger at the situation away, it was time to focus on Molly and her well-being. She looked from Joanne to Molly, her heart pounding wildly as Joanne began to speak, "Molly, there's someone we want you to meet."

"That's Sara." Molly replied, "She rescued me from the bad guys at the house."

"Molly, sweetie, remember when we talked about Mommies and Daddies?" The other social worker spoke gently, "Remember?"

Molly nodded uncertainly, looking from Sara to the social worker with a questioning gaze.

"Well, Molly, Sara is your Mommy."

_TBC_


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's Notes: Here's chapter three, if anyone's still reading...no cliffie this time...let me know what you think. I love to hear from all of my readers. Thanks to Em for her persistence and assistance. _

_Jenny_

**Chapter Three:**

"Let me know if you need something, alright?" Sara spoke gently, pulling a dark blue blanket over Molly's small frame, "I'm going to leave the closet light on for you, and I'll be right in the living room if you get scared, okay?"

"Okay." Came the uncertain reply, "Daddy lets me watch movies to sleep."

Sara nodded, panicking slightly as she tried to think of a movie she owned that would be appropriate for a small child. After going through her mental catalogue of DVDs, she was stumped. Molly would probably not be interested in documentaries, psychological thrillers, or romantic comedies, nor would they even come close to being appropriate for a child her age.

Patting Molly's leg reassuringly, Sara whispered, "I know someone who probably has a ton of movies for a little girl like you...let me give her a call and see what we can find, okay?"

"Okay." Molly replied quietly, her eyes wide as she let her eyes travel around the bedroom. Occupying the queen sized bed, she felt like she could be swallowed whole, and there were more shadows occupying the room than she had seen on any given night of her life. She closed her eyes, putting her hands over her small face. If she couldn't see the bad things, they couldn't see her either.

Pulling her hand back a bit, she eyed Sara as the brunette made her way to the hallway, the cordless phone pressed against her ear as she anxiously paced. It wasn't that she wanted to make Sara more nervous and upset than she already was, she was just scared to be in a new house, with someone she didn't even know. Even if that person _was_ her mother. And for as long as she could remember, she had been in a set routine. Her Daddy would put on a movie, give her a cup of milk or juice, and sing her a lullaby. And Sara...she just seemed like she didn't know what she was doing at all.

Sara exhaled loudly as Catherine's answering machine picked up, and angrily pushed the button to end the call. Of all times for the blonde to be unreachable. She couldn't very well show Molly any of her videos, but who else did she know with kids?

With a sigh of relief, as her mind suddenly churned into gear, she began to dial another familiar number.

"_Sanders."_

"Hey Greg, it's Sara...got a minute?"

"_For you? Always. What's up?"_

"Long version, or short?" Sara replied, laughing nervously, "I, uh, have a kid that I haven't seen in four years, and she's refusing to go to bed without a movie. And unless kids are allowed to watch "Silence of the Lambs", I'm sort of out of luck."

"_You what?"_

Sara's hand shook slightly as she glanced back towards Molly, "You, uh, heard me right. I have a daughter, she's four...and she needs entertainment. Can you help me?"

She was met with silence.

"Greg, are you there?" She paused, hearing only her shaky voice and heavy breathing coming across the line, "Greg?"

She heard him let out a deep breath, followed by a slight nervous chuckle. "Damn it Greg, stop acting so surprised. Are going to help me out or what?"

"_Acting? Who's acting? You have a _kid_? Since when?" _Greg demanded, _"Are you going to tell me what's going on?"_

Sara glanced back towards Molly once more, sighing impatiently, "I'll tell you when you get here. Bring something age appropriate."

Sara hung up the phone, taking a seat on the edge of the bed, "I called a friend of mine and he's going to bring over a movie for you. Do you need anything else?"

"Milk?" Molly asked quietly, worry evident on her face. How was Sara going to take care of her if she didn't have any movies or toys? What if she didn't have any milk? What if she only had grown up food? Tears pooled in her eyes as she started to panic. She didn't want to live anywhere without her Daddy, and furthermore, without her toys. "In a sippy cup?"

Sara bit her lip, struggling to keep her own composure, "Let me go see what I can find, okay?"

Sara darted out of the room and into the kitchen, her hands trembling as she surveyed her counter for something she could manufacture into a sippy cup of sorts. Just as she was about to give up and resign herself into being the worst mother in Las Vegas, a purple sports bottle caught her eye. She popped open the top, sniffing slightly to make sure it was clean before heading to the fridge.

She opened the black door, groaning when she saw just how bare the shelves were, then pulled out a half gallon of milk, hoping beyond hope that it wasn't expired. She tilted it to the side to check for an expiration date, grimacing when the curdled milk hit the side of the container with a dull thud. The milk definitely had gone past it's life expectancy. Reaching for the phone, she dialed Greg's number again, begging him to buy milk before hanging up and going back to the open fridge door.

What could she give Molly to keep her calm and happy? Leaning in to dig through old Chinese cartons, she came across a bottle of apple juice. She smiled triumphantly, pulling it out and taking a quick whiff of the liquid. This, as opposed to the milk, seemed like it wouldn't kill the child.

She spun around, hearing a noise behind her, and lost her grip on the juice, barely catching it before it fell to the floor. In the doorway stood Molly, clad in one of Sara's old Harvard shirts, the bottom trailing along the floor, her eyes filled with unshed tears. "I'm scared."

"Oh, honey, there's nothing to be scared of." Sara replied, placing the juice on the table so she could squat down in front of Molly, "What do you need?"

"You left me alone and it was dark and I heard a noise and I said your name but you didn't come and I want to go home and I want my daddy and I want my toys and I want a movie and I don't want to go to sleep." Molly rambled, her lip quivering more and more with each word.

The child dissolved into sobs, her cheeks turning red against her pale skin, her breaths coming in short bursts as she propelled herself into a full blown tantrum. Sara backed up slightly, her hand moving up and down as she tried to decide what action to take next. The child's cries pierced her ears and with each escalating wail, the older woman's nerves began to frazzle more and more. How do you calm someone you know nothing about? How do you tell a child who's just lost everything that things will be okay?

By the time Greg arrived, both were sobbing on the kitchen floor, identical down to their red noses.

"Well, there's no question that she's your daughter." Greg dead panned as he set the bag on the counter, "What's so horrible that it has two beautiful girls so upset?"

Sara motioned to the refrigerator, which remained open, and then to Molly, who had started to calm down as she realized someone else was in the apartment. Through her sobs, she managed to choke out, "I don't have a sippy cup and I made one, and I lost the lid and it's not spill proof, and I don't even know if I've ever washed it, and I don't have milk and I only have juice and Chinese from two weeks ago and I don't have anything I need to be a mom and she's crying and I don't know what to do and I don't know what I'm doing!"

Placing his hand on her head, he instructed, "Stop and breathe, I'll come back to you when you stop babbling." He turned to Molly, lifting the small girl into his arms, "Hi there, my name's Greg."

"Mine's Molly." Molly replied uncertainly, "What are you doing here?"

Greg flashed the girl a warm smile before motioning to Sara, who was still sobbing on the floor, "I heard you two needed some help getting settled. I brought a couple of movies that I'm going to let you borrow, okay? Would you like me to put one on for you?"

Molly nodded, laying her head down on Greg's shoulder as he reached for the bag, "I brought milk too, do you like milk?"

"Yes." Molly replied, her voice muffled by his shirt. "I want my sippy cup."

Greg rifled through the bag, producing a clear cup with a plastic lid, "I thought you might say that, so I brought you one. Do you like chocolate in your milk?"

Molly nodded, remaining quiet as Greg fixed her milk with his free hand. After a few moments of silence, save for Sara's quieting cries, Molly asked softly, "Are you going to be my new Daddy?"

Greg pulled back slightly from the child, shock evident in his face, "No, no...no one can replace your Daddy."

"Daddy went to live with the angels, and I got a Mommy. I don't want a new Daddy, I want my old Daddy." Molly sniffled, her eyes brimming with tears again.

Sensing that if the child broke down again, so would her mother, Greg tried to find a way to quickly diffuse the tension. Handing her the cup, he replied softly, "Well, no one can replace your Daddy...I just want to be your friend."

"You can't be my friend, you're too old." Molly laughed, her mood lifted by Greg's statement. She leaned forward, whispering in his ear, "But my Mommy needs a friend, she's crying."

Greg glanced over towards Sara, exaggerating a knowing nod for the little girl, "I know! She's a little scared, just like you are. Let's show her how to be a big girl, okay? We can take you into the bedroom, put on a movie, and before you know it, it will be morning and everything won't be quite as scary."

Molly nodded, laying her head back down with her eyes closed. By the time Greg had tucked the little girl in, Sara had managed to compose herself, and was busy wiping up spilled juice from the floor.

"Let me help." Greg whispered softly, taking the rag from Sara's unsteady hands, "Molly's asleep...I think she was out before the opening credits."

"Thank you so much." Sara replied, flopping onto one of the wooden kitchen chairs, "You're amazing with her."

Greg smiled, walking to the sink and rinsing out the rag, "I've always loved being around kids. It's one of the many things I missed out on by being an only child." He sat down across from Sara, glancing expectantly at his friend, "So, what did I miss? A daughter?"

As his words touched her ears, she dropped her head to the table, beginning to earnestly sob once more. Greg moved beside her, wrapping his arms around his distraught friend while waiting for her tears to stop. As she moved to wrap her arms around him, he instantly knew he was in for the long haul, whether he was ready or not.

_TBC_


End file.
